Rising Sun
by Silver Devil
Summary: -none-
1. Dreaming

Ian awoke around three in the morning for the seventh time in a row. It was that dream again. That same dream… again. What did it mean? Every morning he'd start with a cold sweat, chills running down his spine. What did it mean? All he could remember was the heat. And the light. The blinding, burning light. Brighter than anything he had ever seen. Almost. It was the same as last night. And the one before that. And the four before that.  
  
Ian lay motionless in his bed, his wife beside him. The stillness of the night was the perfect opposite of his dream. There was no sound, save the random cricket on that spring morning, and Elizabeth's gentle breathing. There was no light. None. The darkness crept over the hills, through the open window, and attacked Ian's eyes. The lack of light was unbearable. He turned on his small reading light without squinting. The light didn't hurt his eyes. He carefully sat up and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
The dream. What did it mean? What was that light? That heat? That… that force. Yes, the force. There was an unimaginable power behind that force. It was an evil power. How did he know? He didn't. He just knew.  
  
He crept out of bed slowly and carefully so as not to wake his wife. The floor was cold against his bare feet. Another shock ran through his spine. He left the room and went down the hall towards the stairs. He suddenly stopped next to the only other bedroom. His daughter lay inside sleeping. He opened the door and looked in.  
  
Stacee was curled up under her dark blue comforter. For a moment, Ian forgot about his dream. All he thought of was the beautiful girl in that bed. Her black, strait hair lay on her neck, and behind closed eyelids were light green eyes that still held a child's look. Stacee was a miracle in his life. If only that joy lasted. Ian closed the door, letting the dream return, and continued down the hall and down the stairs.  
  
Ian put on a pot of coffee, making sure it was strong. He needed it this morning. Glancing at the microwave's clock, he saw an hour had passed. Had he really spent that much time lying in bed? Oh, well. He still had an hour until he was supposed to get up anyway…  
  
* * *  
  
Stacee awoke to Creed on the radio. It was 5:30 already. Time for another fun and exciting day at school she said to herself, sarcastically. Forcing herself out of bed, she trudged over to the bathroom. Five minutes later, she was in the shower. She washed her hair, thinking about school, friends, Jake, her last math test, her English vocabulary quiz today, Jake, friends, the party on Friday, Jake…  
  
* * *  
  
Elizabeth woke up last, but only due to the fact that the warm body of her husband wasn't beside her on that cold morning. It was Tuesday, one of the two days she didn't have to go to work, but she got up anyway. The refreshing sent of freshly made coffee wafted into the room from downstairs. She pulled the cool sheets off herself and headed downstairs. On her way, she noticed the sound of the water running in the bathroom. When she got downstairs she saw Ian sitting at the table, drinking black coffee, just staring at nothing…  



	2. Morning

Stacee pushed open the doors of Livington High later that day. A rush of warm air greeted her face, and she graciously accepted it. It was well below freezing outside. Glancing at her little gold watch, a present from her late grandmother, she saw that there was still ten minutes before the first bell. There was still time. She was just about to look for her friends when a hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.  
  
"Hey, Stacee," Jake said. "Good morning!"  
  
He pulled her close to him and they kissed for a few seconds. Breaking the kiss, Stacee looked into Jake's blue eyes and ruffled his blond hair.   
  
"It is a good morning," Stacee giggled. "Come on, let's find Jane. She's got the info on the party."  
  
Before Jake could respond, Stacee grabbed his arm and carried him into the short search for Jane. They found her in the English wing, just like every morning.  
  
"Hey, Jane! So what's up with this party?" Stacee asked.  
  
"It's at Dan Diaz's house at eight, but I won't be there." Jane answered.  
  
"Why not?" Asked Jake.  
  
"My family's dragging me to see my dumb old grandma," was the response.  
  
This statement caused a small ping of sadness to rise in Stacee's heart. If only she could talk to her own grandmother and take back all those statements so similar to Jane's. If only Jane knew that someday, it would be too late to apologize.  
  
There was a kind of eerie silence as no one said anything. Jake decided to jump in at this point.  
  
"I have to get a lab paper from Mr. Vance. Stacee, I think you need that one, too. Come on."  
  
The three said their goodbyes and separated. Stacee and Jake slowly walked towards the science wing of Livington High. This was one thing she liked about Jake. He always knew how to resolve uneasy situations. And no one could create an uneasy situation like Jane could. Jake was her hero, and Jane his foil.  
  
They finally reached Mr. Vance's room, which was on the other side of the school. It was a big school, and the five minutes of the passing periods was often too short, which would cause a tardy slip to be signed. Mr. Vance wasn't in, but there was a folder taped to his door that had several copies of the centrifugal force lab that would be needed later that day. Stacee and Jake each picked out a paper just as the first bell rang. Jake gave Stacee a quick kiss and left for US History, leaving Stacee to begin the long trek back to her English class.  
  
Stacee entered the room just as the last bell rang and took her seat. Jane sat in the back with Megan, whom Stacee despised. Megan had once purposely spilt water on Stacee's seat, which Stacee didn't notice. She ended up running out of the classroom with her hands covering her teary eyes and the laughter of the students following her all the way to the office. Megan ended up with a Saturday detention.  
  
Mrs. Darnay started to pass out their graded essays. Stacee wasn't really paying attention, but got the general idea of Mrs. Darnay being disappointed in the class. She suddenly realized her paper was in front of her. She flipped it over. It was a 62. This, Stacee realized, was going to be a long day.  



	3. The Secret

The big, metallic doors slid open with the hum of electricity as Ian walked up to the front of Pokleh Aero Technologies. Pokleh Aero Technologies, or PAT, as it was known by it's employees, was started three years after it's biggest competitor, Sikorsky, by a man known only as "Mr. Pokleh." After he died, his son took over the company, vowing to complete Project Hellbender, his father's dream for the company. A new type of military helicopter, Project Hellbender was supposed to bring fame and fortune to the company, but had so far been only a costly project. Ian was a main player on Team Hellbender, and he believed that they were getting close to fixing several of the problems they were having. They could build it; they just can't make it fly.  
  
Ian walked through those doors and walked to the inner security doors. He slid his ID card through the reader, and, after a few seconds to check, the security guard let him through the bulletproof glass doors. He took the elevator to the sixth floor - the Hellbender Floor, as it had come to be known - and made his way to his office, at the end of the South wing. His secretary, an intern by the name of Belinda Triche who was already at her desk, greeted him.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Tucker!"  
  
Ian secretly wondered how Melinda got stuck as his secretary, whereas her sister teaches epidemeology at Yale. All he knew was that she was taking night classes to eventually change jobs.  
  
"Good morning, Belinda!" Any worries of the dream of that morning couldn't be seen. His dark blue suit matched his dark blue briefcase, and he looked like someone ready for anything. And he was. Or, at least he thought he was.  
  
"You have two memos waiting on your desk, sir. You might want to have some coffee first." Belinda said.  
  
"Oh goodie," Ian mumbled, already pouring a cup. "This means bad news. You want a cup?"  
  
"Sure," Belinda answered, "I could really use some. I got a new dog from the Diamond Animal Shelter. She kept me up all night. She would bark at everything, even me. She's still a little scared, but I think she's warming up to me."  
  
"I think it's great that you saved her, Belinda. What's her name?"  
  
"Uni."  
  
"Um…"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Uni?"  
  
"Yeah, so? My niece named her. I think it's cute."  
  
Ian looked to his office door. "Right, well, I'd better find out what's in these memos. Wish me luck!" He left Belinda's desk and went into his office. He heard Belinda whisper "Good luck!" as he closed the door.  
  
Ian glanced around his office and immediately spotted the two memos. They were resting atop his monitor. From where he was, he could only tell that they were each only one or two sentences long. He walked over and picked up the first one. It was from the Software division of Project Hellbender. It read:  
  
"Duck hunting season opens Wednesday. Bring your rifle."  
  
His brain spent only two seconds deciphering the message. Their minigun software was ready for testing. All they needed was the weapon, which would be supplied by the weapons division. The test was set for Thursday. They always used the previous day in their messages. Also, most of Software liked duck hunting, which Ian thought of as cruel. Not that he really liked ducks or anything. Anyway, all this secrecy was necessary for one reason. No one outside of Project Hellbender can know about Project Hellbender. Ian picked up the second memo. It was from the secretarial desk of Mr. Pokleh.  
  
"Request update meeting. 9:30 a.m. today. Here."  
  
"Shit…" Ian mumbled. He had six minutes less than an hour to get everything together.  
  
* * *  
  
It was 9:32. Ian had gotten there ten minutes ago to ensure that he would not be late. Now he was still waiting. The secretary was kind enough to offer Ian a Werther's Original, but that was the limit of the conversation. Two minutes later, a little light flashed on the secretary's desk. She picked it up.  
  
"Yes? --- He is. --- Okay"  
  
As she hung up the phone, she looked over at Ian, nervously sitting on the wooden bench, and said; "Mr. Pokleh will see you now."  
  
Ian rose to his feet and crossed the Asian-style tiled floor to the large oak doors. They slowly opened with a click of the lock and the whoosh of air slowly being compressed. A dim light spilled out across the floor to Ian's feet.  
  
"Please, come in!" Mr. Pokleh's strong, yet kind voice floated out of the PAT Presidential Office.  
  
Ian slowly entered the large and richly furnished room. The doors closed behind him and he heard the click that signified that the door was locked. Ian quickly glanced around the room. A portrait of the late Mr. Pokleh hung on the wall in a gold plated frame. Ian sat down in a chair roughly two times that of his own. Mr. Pokleh took better care of his visitors than of his own employees. No, Ian thought. Now I'm getting ahead of myself. Almost all of Mr. Pokleh's visitors are very wealthy and powerful. The wealthy being either billionaires or representatives of large companies or television stations. At least three news stations use helicopters built by PAT. Also, the CEO of every company needed a nice, fast way to travel, and Mr. Pokleh wanted that to be a PAT helicopter, so the company also made LuxCopters, helicopters that were quiet and comfortable inside. Mr. Pokleh's visitors that fell in the "powerful" department consisted of government officials, once it was the President of the United States, or military/air force personnel. That's where Project Hellbender came in.  
  
"Well, Ian," Mr. Pokleh began, "how goes my baby?" He always referred to the Hellbender as his "baby," which worried Ian, sometimes.  
  
"Well, Sir, minigun testing is set for Thursday, and both the primary and auxiliary propulsion systems have been completed and constructed in the main units." There were two Beta units, one nicknamed "Sally" after Ed Kilt's ex-wife who left him with two babies for some doctor named Bob, or something like that. The other: Bobby. Tyler Muster's 5-year-old son, Bobby, was killed in a terrorist attack three years ago during a trip to Israel. Tyler was never the same since, and Ian wanted to dedicate this hovercopter to his son, Bobby. "We'll be conducting the minigun testing with Sally."  
  
"Good, good," Mr. Pokleh replied. "So everything's right on schedule?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I'm adding some people to the project. You'll receive a memo later on what to do with them. They'll help to design EVE."  
  
Yes, EVE. Rumored to be put into the Hellbender, she has become a reality. She is to be the Hellbender's Enhanced Virtual Entity. AI, if you will, that will help on missions, will learn, become better. Every time Ian hears that name, he is reminded of the movie The Matrix. A few months ago, he liked that movie. Now he was scared it would come true.  
  
"…Yes… Sir…"  
  
"Good, dismissed. Go to lunch, you look a little pale."  
  
"…Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." With that, Ian rose, turned, and left the office. On his way down the elevator, he tried to clear his mind, but failed. All he could think of was creating a weapon that could think. EVE, inside the most advanced air vehicle ever designed. A chill ran down his spine…  



End file.
